


sort, kind, class

by lovebones



Series: sterek drabbles [3]
Category: Teen Wolf (TV)
Genre: domestic living I guess, i wrote 400 of Stiles sitting on his bed thinking, idk what this is
Language: English
Status: Completed
Published: 2019-04-01
Updated: 2019-04-01
Packaged: 2019-12-30 14:53:59
Rating: Not Rated
Warnings: Creator Chose Not To Use Archive Warnings
Chapters: 1
Words: 413
Publisher: archiveofourown.org
Story URL: https://archiveofourown.org/works/18317540
Author URL: https://archiveofourown.org/users/lovebones/pseuds/lovebones
Summary: 400 words of Stiles thinking a lot w/ a Sterek quality to the air.





	sort, kind, class

Stiles kind of really hated school. Not really- he liked learning and getting free information. But at school he was expected to be still and pay attention all the time and when he wasn’t Mr. Douche-Harris gave him detention. He enjoyed study hall, he got all the free information and could fidget all he wanted as long as he was quiet. He could do quiet, despite all the rambly chatter he made when around people.

Class sucked though, because he could sit next to Scott but couldn’t ramble at him unless the teacher let them work in groups, but he also couldn’t just be quiet because he had to participate in class. He was a two modes kind of kid. One or the other, never both and never in between.

When it came to learning though, his favorite place was in his room on his bed with his laptop warming his lap. He could spread out all his stuff on his bed, highlighters and sticky notes and notebooks full of supernatural creatures both hypothetical and confirmed to exist. Sorting through the slog of made up bullshit and maybe plausible info on the internet. It also might have something to do with a certain sourwolf lurking outside the window.

He probably should be creeped out by Derek’s near constant stalker behavior, but at least now he would sometimes crawl in and sit at the edge of Stiles’ bed. Looking a little like he belonged in the cluttered room. Most of the time it was a companionable silence between them, just basking in each other’s presence. It was one of the few times Stiles didn’t feel the need to chatter and fill the space with nonsense words.

It felt like he could just be, just exist, continue to live without social rules and expectations clouding up his thought pan. The only other person he could be like that was his Dad, and his dad couldn’t be around often and when he was it was unfortunately short-lived. It was calming and comforting in a way he didn’t realize he needed. He liked being able to sit and do what he needed to, liked that he could ask Derek for a Super Professional Born Werewolf opinion about whatever supernatural horror he’d decided to look up, liked that Derek would simply roll his eyes and smirk before answering- or that he would furrow his brows because he didn’t know for once.

It was nice, it felt like home.


End file.
